Showing posts with label Christopher Cascio. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christopher Cascio. Show all posts

Sunday, December 9, 2018

What I Got at Zine Fest 2018 In Order of Size

Robert Boyd

Zine Fest was held on November 17. I wanted to write about my haul, but it's taken longer than I hoped because I just got a new job which has sucked up a lot of my time. But here it is finally--everything I got at Zine Fest from smallest to largest. (I was mostly anchored behind my table where I debuted my new zine, Money, which can be purchased on my online store.)


Free Acid Lick Here sticker by Chris Cascio. 3 1/2" square. Chris took a photo of a patch and made a sticker out of it. It fits in with his oeuvre--druggy, nostalgic, low brow.



Some Truth About Depression by Chastity Porter (Dormalou Project) One page unfolded, 8 1/2" x 11". 2 1/2" x 4" folded. A collage of thoughts about depression. The words feel a little like a kidnapper's note from a Hollywood film--words cut out and assembled. They are layered over a dense doodle and a brown burlap-looking texture. It looks great but it makes me worried about Chastity. I hope she's not depressed!



  

Broom_Zine vol. 1 and vol. 2 by Jason Dibley. 3 1/2" x 5". 20 pages each. Black-and-white photos of brooms, mostly in situ. Staggeringly banal!







Robots in Ties by Hanna Schroy (published by Elefluff.) 4" x 5". 12 pages, full color. I saw the title and expected pictures of robots wearing ties. But even better--it's robots in bondage! The artist is from Fort Worth.






Badlands by Gabriel Martinez (published by Paratext, a collective of artists from Alabama Song). 4 3/4" square. 22 pages, black and white. A very oblique comics story by Alabama Song honcho and former Core Fellow Gabriel Martinez. Set in a trailer park, a bearded man notices a truck parked outside. "This truck's been here all week. Someone movin' out?" he asks his father.


SPOILER ALERT: In the end, we see in kind of an x-ray view that there is a man laying down in the tuck. Is he asleep? Dead? It's not explained and that lack of explanation makes it mysterious and intriguing. If that was the end of the story, it would be a very interesting, ambiguous end. But I asked Martinez and he said there are four more issues to come.



Thin King by Ruslan Kalitan (Mirchek Comics). 8 1/2" x 5 1/2". 26 pages, color. I don't know anything about Ruslan Kalitan, except that I suspect he may be from a country that uses a Cyrillic alphabet. On the Mirchek Comics site, he has this statement:
Привет!
Меня зовут Руслан Калитин и я рисую комиксы
Я не читаю и не рисую комиксы про супер-героев! Мои супер-герои — это обычные люди без спецэффектов, я прозвал их «серебряные седаны». В последнее время я рисую и издаю книги в США. Их можно купить с доставкой по всему миру — см. раздел shop
The comic is a bunch of short disconnected pieces, some having to do with travel. In one page, he writes that many of the stories were "created behind the bar counter of Molly Gwynn's, a pub in Moscow, Russia." I met the artist briefly at the end of zine fest--he came by the table and asked if I wanted to trade publications. He had an accent--Russian, presumably.


This is the last page of Thin King.



You Won't Be Seeing Me Again by Joe Frontirre. 6 1/2" x 10 1/4". 26 pages, black and white. This comic book has a highly traditional format as might be expected from a Marvel Comics artist like Frontirre.



The comic consists of a bunch of loosely connected vignettes drawn in a somewhat cartoony but likable chiaroscuro style. The drawing was why I picked it up--that ink-stained style has been one of my favorites for years. It is said to have been invented by cartoonist Noel Sickles, a newspaper strip cartoonist who shared studio space with Milton Caniff. Caniff basically adapted the style and because his comics were infinitely better than Sickles, he was really the one who popularized it. Since then, many of my favorite cartoonists have used variations of it: Frank Robbins, Alex Toth, Alberto Breccia, José Muñoz, and many others. It was interesting to see it used for such quotidian vignettes of everyday life. If there is a theme here, it is perhaps of various forms of toxic masculinity. I'd enjoy reading more. Unfortunately and unexpectedly, I can find nothing about this comic online so I don't know how you can get a copy if you're interested...



 Various Small Geological Controversies by Bill Daniel. 6 1/2" x10 1/2". 40 pages, 3 color risograph printing. Published by Port Aransas Press. Printed by Max Seckel.These pale photos are somewhat overwhelmed by the printing technique. They're printed on a risograph with a really coarse screen. The three colors make each monochrome glow with a particular pink or purplish or greenish hue. The effect is unlike almost any photobook I've ever seen. It looks really cool, especially with these desolate, lonely photos. Bill Daniel, whose photo work I published in EXU, is probably best known for his rock and roll photos.



Looking at this, I wonder about the nature of the collaboration between Bill Daniel and New Orleans-based printer Max Seckel.






Jazzland by Jamell Tate. 8" x 10 1/2". 36 pages, 3 color risograph. Printed by Max Seckel. Another photobook printed by Seckel. This time the subject matter is a little closer to home. Tate photographed the remains of a New Orleans amusement park called Jazz Land. In 2002, Jazz Land became part of the Six Flags chain of amusement parks, and it was closed down after Katrina in 2005. It has remained shut ever since.



Unlike the Bill Daniel photos, these were color photos. Again the screen used for the color separations is quite coarse, but they were printed in full color (presumably with a four-color separation, but I don't know that for sure--it may be three color seps). The printing makes them appear quite pale. Again, I have to assume that is a conscious decision on the part of the photographer in collaboration with the printer. Like the Daniel book, these images have a lonely somewhat-haunted look (hard to avoid given the subject), but Danial is a more interesting photographer.



Fields by Brett Hollis. 8" x 10 1/2". 60 pages, full-color. Hollis is another Exu veteran. This slick, shiny publication was published in 2017. It appears to be full of collages onto which captions were placed afterwards. My sense is that he did the collages first and came up with the captions next without knowing in advance what they would be. I may be way off base here, though.



The collages are full of elements that Hollis drew himself, although occasionally they include found images--photos or in one case a piece from a comic book. In the latter, he makes a joke about cutting up the comic in his caption: "The destruction of its relics is the new "American Passtime". Otherwise, the collage elements are drawn and painted presumably by Hollis himself. He uses airbrush a lot in these color-saturated images.


 Richy Vegas #15 by Richard Alexander. 12" square, 80 pages. This unusual item is by Richard Alexander, an Austin cartoonist who has been documenting his mental illness in comics drawn on paper plates. To call this comic disjointed would be an understatement, but the cumulative effect is to see that Alexander is someone who in the late 80s and 90s was pursuing various women and working various low-level jobs after getting out of college.



The format doesn't lend itself to clear story-telling, but clarity seems beside the point from the point of view of the author. The story can be summarized very briefly in this statement from Alexander's website: "He attended the University of Texas at Austin and received a Bachelor of Fine Arts there in 1988.  He graduated from the School of Visual Arts in New York City in 1991. In 1992, his quixotic pursuit of the wrong woman lead to a diagnosis of schizophrenia. Three years later, another doctor amended the initial diagnosis to schizoaffective disorder." In the end, it's more interesting for its weird format than for the comics within, but I like the fact that Alexander has obsessively produced 16 volumes of this (over 1000 pages by my count).


Monday, September 8, 2014

A Gathering of Flies: Texas Contemporary Art Fair, part 1

Robert Boyd


Fly at the Glasstire booth

My first impression was that it felt smaller. I don't have last year's program book, but I have 2012's. This year there were 55 exhibitors (of which four were non-profit spaces), and in 2012 there were 74 (with three non-profit spaces). Last year, when you walked in the door, there were massive artworks by Ann Wood, Sharon Engelstein and the Clayton Brothers greeting you before you even saw a single booth. This time, there were some cars. And 18 of the exhibitors this year were from Houston. In other words, after what felt like three years of growth, this year's fair felt like a retrenchment.

So what is it? The economy? That can't be it--we hear in national media over and over about how well Houston is doing. This time, everything felt scaled down and constrained. Glasstire, which has in the past had elaborate booths with live animals this year had a pedicab. Fun, but not so exciting in terms of sheer spectacle.


Bill Davenport gives me a pedicab ride through the fair

The thing was, on opening night as I surveyed the well-dressed crowd of VIP party attendees, I had an epiphany: Houston shouldn't have an art fair. I'm not going to try to make an economic argument here. If galleries--particularly local galleries--make some profit while there here and in doing so put some money into artists' hands, then I'm wrong and I'll happily cop to it. It just seems like if you are a Houstonian and you want to collect art by local artists, you don't need this fair. And if you want to collect work by artists from other places around the world, get on a plane to Art Basel or Frieze. I realize that not much of the work here was blue chip art, and therefore was relatively affordable, but the same can be said of the art shown at any number of satellite art fairs around Art Basel and Frieze. And to me, that makes TCAF seem surplus to requirements.

The fair would have been a tedious experience if I hadn't had a house guest in town. It is best to have a Virgil along with you when you enter the infernal pit. Artist Matthew Couper was showing his work Zoya Tommy Gallery, so I offered to put him up for the weekend.


Matthew Couper, Kindle, 2014, oil on metal, 5 x 7 inches

His work is a pastiche of Spanish colonial retablos, symbol-laden tableaux painted on very flat pieces of metal. The images are often dark and a bit shadowy. The horizon is low and the space is usually indistinct or bounded with distant mountains. There is always a night sky. The deliberately primitive realism heightens the sense of utter strangeness, the feeling that these things are vessels of arcane knowledge. Of course, Manuel Ocampo has mined similar terrain. One might think also of Michael Tracy, but Tracy's art is much more ecstatic and performance oriented.


Matthew Couper, Horror Vacui! (Stardust), 2014, masking tape and oil on loose linen, 18 x 14 inches

Couper comes from New Zealand but has been living in Las Vegas for the past four years. As screwed up as the Houston art scene sometimes seems, Couper's description of the Las Vegas scene makes Houston sound like paradise. But despite this, Vegas fascinates him, you can see from the piece above (which was not shown at TCAF, alas). His paintings are intriguing and beautiful--if you missed them at TCAF, check them out at Zoya Tommy Gallery.

I mentioned to him how previous TCAFs had seemed larger and more spectacular. I showed him photos of last year's entryway flanked by the two looming Sharon Engelstein blow-ups.  He laid the blame on the art fair promoters. Where was the media? Where was the advertising? Where was the hype? Where was the spectacle?


Andela Andea, Lux Aeterna. cold cathode fluorescent lights, LED lights, flex neon, computer power sources, plastic

The one on-site installation that really impressed me Andela Andea's Lux Aeterna. It was a sprawling, garish piece, hanging off one of the weird radiating posts that dot the convention hall. But to be honest, I liked Alex Tremino's two glowing poles at Diana Lowenstain Gallery better. In the genre of "glowy art", Tremino does more with less.


Alex Tremino, Luminous I and Luminous II, 2013, neon lights, Plexiglass tubes, knitting, crochet, fibers, found objects

In a different hall in the same convention center that weekend was the Big Texas Train Show. How did I find out about them? Simple--they had a billboard up on I-45. Did TCAF have a billboard? Maybe, but if so I never saw it. The only mainstream media coverage of TCAF I saw was this nice article in the Houston Chronicle about Nathaniel Donnett's "Gap store" at the Darke Gallery booth. But maybe I just missed all the camera crews from the local TV stations.


Lego trains

The Big Texas Train Show had installations which easily competed with those at TCAF in size. They were pretty spectacular--there were many tables installed covered with elaborate dioramas, little landscapes and cities, in every scale from Z (1:220 scale) to HO (1:87 scale) to G (1:32 scale). I had never even heard of G-scale trains. They're freaking huge.


G-scale trains

The oval track they set up for the G-scale trains was bigger than my apartment!


Train with an elevated street car set-up

When I saw this beautiful diorama with its elevated streetcar, I thought--how cool it would be to build an HO scale model of the High Line in New York.

You can think of model railroads as a kind of industrial age folk art. So if you think of model railroads (and especially the attendant dioramas) as art--and I certainly do--who had the more successful art fair this weekend? What could TCAF have learned from the Big Texas Train Show? That buying billboards is a good idea? (It may be that TCAF had more advertising and publicity than I'm giving them credit for--but I didn't see any, and I was on the lookout for it.)

By the end of Saturday (I didn't attend Sunday), the thing that left the strongest negative impression were the flies. They were everywhere, especially around the bar in the VIP lounge. I can't think of a better metaphor for something being dead than a bunch of flies buzzing around. I hope they weren't an omen.

Art I Liked

But in the end, the main reason to go to an art fair is to look at a bunch of art. Sure an art fair is not the best way to see art, but it is often the only way to see a lot of contemporary art all at once. That's what I like the most about them. TCAF was conservative this year. There wasn't much video, for example, nor installation or new media. It was mostly art that could be hung on a wall. Don't get me wrong--I love me some paintings and drawings and photos. I just would have hoped a fair explicitly devoted to contemporary art would have represented a broader range of contemporary art practice. But the exhibit strategy was undoubtedly practical--show what you can sell. In any case, here's some of the art I liked best.


Al Souza at Moody Gallery


Al Souza


Allan McCullom, Visible Markers, 2012, reinforced fiberglass resin at McClain Gallery



Ana Serrano at Rice Gallery


Ana Serrano


Billy Zinser, Lil', oil on panel, 5 x 5 inches each at the Public Trust



Nathaniel Donnett, How Much for These Dreams and Memories, vitrine, gold leaf on books and plastic objects, 2011 at Darke Gallery


Nathaniel Donnett, No White Tees, cloth, duct tape, paper, belt, 2013


Nathaniel Donnett, Fill In the Blanks, conte, graphite, plastic, paper bags, 2014

Darke Gallery was shuttered a while back when Linda Darke took time off to recover from a serious illness. It was back at the art fair with a wonderful solo show by Nathaniel Donnett. And Linda Darke was looking great.


Devon Borden Gallery wall installation


Chris Cascio, Smut Peddlers (detail),  2014, Ink On Paper,  60 X 40 inches

I heard that this large Chris Cascio (on the right of Devin Borden Gallery's salon-style hanging) was sold. Also, Devin Borden Gallery has evidently signed Chris Cascio!


Matt Messinger, no title, 2014 mixed media on canvas with collage,  5 x 4


Claire Shegog at Aureus Contemporary


Claire Shegog detail

Claire Shegog apparently takes little figures used for cake decorations and heavily paints them to give them a little more solidity, then arranges them as you can see here. Now part of me laughs when I see something like that because it seems to fulfill Hennessy Youngman's definition of art as explained in this video. But there is something about it that appeals to me visually.



Cordy Ryman at Morgan Lehman

Cordy Ryman's artwork was at DCKT Contemporary at the fair in 2011, and now it's at Morgan Lehman. Lower east Side to Chelsea--I guess that's a move up. In any case, I liked this suite of tiny paintings. The sales director there suggested that Ryman's use of various materials in his work was a sign of his excellence as an artist, because only a really good artist could use so many media so well. But he is not a master of any media. His paintings always look awkward and king of unfinished. I can't tell if it's because of this or despite it that his work is appealing. Sometimes crudeness works--look at Forrest Bess.


Cordy Ryman


Cordy Ryman


Cordy Ryman


Noriko Shinohara, Cutie and Bullie Series, 2008, pencil, watercolor and sumi on paper, 24 x 18 inches


Noriko Shinohara, Cutie and Bullie Series, 2008, pencil, watercolor and sumi on paper, 24 x 18 inches


Noriko Shinohara, Cutie and Bullie Series (detail), 2008, pencil, watercolor and sumi on paper, 24 x 18 inches

This was wonderful. While Zoya Tommy Gallery had some Ushio Shinohara boxing paintings at her booth, Kirk Hopper Fine Art had his wife, Noriko Shinohara, at his. I remember seeing these pages in the documentary about the couple, Cutie and the Boxer. The funny thing was that the labels on the wall said everything about the materials used and the date, but didn't mention that these were comics pages that were meant to be read in a particular order. In other words, there is no page number. I wonder if Noriko Shinohara considers them part of a whole? Are these, in fact, two pages from a unified graphic novel? If so, I wish someone would publish it.


Dan Tague, Whistle While We Work, 2013-2014, dimensions variable at Jonathan Ferrara Gallery


Dan Tague, Whistle While We Work (detail), 2013-2014, dimensions variable at Jonathan Ferrara Gallery


Dan Tague, Lie Detector at Konathan Ferrara Gallery


And that's all for this post. I'll continue this tour of TCAF 2014 in part 2.